Breathe In Water, Burning Lungs
by ABlurInTheWind
Summary: Social Suicide is one way to describe Vlad, Anderson supposed. Though he preferred to compare him to a stray cat trying to be the big bad rabid dog. Something kind of pathetic, a little funny, and easy to forget about after the littlest distraction. And that's exactly what Anderson does- forget about Vlad regularly until he can't. Now he's describe Vlad as social suicide.


**I've..I've been sucked back in. I also wanted to try an au of this pairing, which has two interesting characters to work with. Let's see how it goes!**

It's kind of, Anderson thinks, like watching a newly abandoned kitten, trying to pretend to be the rabid dog. Overly dramatic, slightly pathetic, and maybe a bit funny until you really stop to think about the situation. Anderson didn't stop to think about the situation. He had better things to put him time towards. However that didn't mean he didn't watch from time to time. There was no one quite like Vlad at the school and it was cringe worthy how different he was from the regular crowd.

Vlad towered over the masses around him, well over six foot but still shorter than Anderson himself. Not that it did the boy any good seeing as he slouched himself so far over he may as well be the cousin of the hunchback of Notre Dame. Skin bordering between translucent and solid white it could be the color corpse's lover. Thick, unruly black hair that tangled in waves around the guy's face and obscured his freakish eyes. Large, slanted, and framed with long spidery black lashed were red orbs. Which were almost always glued to Vlad's own feet. Anderson was pretty sure they were contacts.

Vlad's frame had to be near skeletal due to the appearance of a sharp, regal nose with pointed features, and thin, long fingers. Plus, Anderson thought, any idiot with a pair of eyes could see how the obnoxiously red clothes hung limply off Vlad's frame. So yes; Vlad could be interesting to look at sometimes- but everyone eventually ignores the strays. So Anderson saw no reason why he should be the one to do anything.

Anderson's large fingers drummed over the plastic side of his eye squinting yellow lunch tray. The school really did have horrid taste.

"If you like watching him so much then you could try this cool new thing. It's called _talking to him_ ," a voice drawled beside him.

He turned his head and focused his sickly green eyes on his friend. Maxwell was one of those interesting types of human beings that not just anyone could put up with. Anderson didn't know how he did it himself.

"Now why would I do a thing like that? It's social suicide. You know that," Anderson stated.

Maxwell sighed and Anderson smirked. He knew his friend didn't approve of anything remotely related or associated with Vlad but that didn't mean Maxwell wouldn't poke at him to try and get a reaction. Anderson didn't doubt Maxwell would have a minor heart attack if he did decide to humor the stray. Maxwell talked a big game but it was all smoke; he still kept it up though.

"Social suicide?" Maxwell snorted. "What suicide? You don't have a social enough life to ruin."

Anderson smirked because it was quite the opposite. As captain of the school's championship hockey team Anderson couldn't have _more_ of a social life. His hockey stick was like an extension of him very arm, and when the smooth plastic was in his hands no one or thing could best him in the rink. Both on and off the ice he was well known around the area or his skills.

"Funny, you think you're funny, don't you?" Anderson sniped back.

"I don't think, I know."

He shook his head, blond hair catching the sun.

"Anyway. The point is, I've got plenty of a social life. And the one way to completely destroy it, " Anderson jabbed a finger in the direction of the unruly pale teen some distance away, not caring who may see or hear. "Is by talkin' to the school's resident drug shooter. It's not gonna happen."

Anderson lowered his arm and flicked his milk carton out of some habit.

Maxwell shrugged, "You never know. He could surprise you."

Their eyes simultaneously flicked to Vlad. Just in time to see him trip over his feet and ram hard into the wall.

Somehow that wasn't very surprising. Anderson raised an eyebrow at Maxwell, to which the other boy threw his hands in the air and stalked off. He laughed loudly at his friend's dramatics before getting up to dump his tray of questionable school food as the lunch bell rang. Vlad slipping from his mind like every other stray does.

 **I'm still deciding how I want to take this relationship and just basic interaction with Anderson and Alucard, so please bare with me for a bit. There is a reason for Alucard being called "Vlad" as well.**


End file.
